


Heroes

by lornelarei



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cardverse, Falling In Love, Growing Up, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:41:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22077880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lornelarei/pseuds/lornelarei
Summary: "I, I will be kingAnd you, you will be queenAnd we can be heroes, forever and ever"Cardverse w/ eventual smut! But not yet. Not sure how to sum it up but it starts as a growing up fic and becomes not that.Title from the David Bowie song :^)
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this chapter, Alfred is 9 and Arthur is 10.

"Who are you?"

Arthur was jolted out of his book, whipping his eyes up to meet those of the boy who had just spoken. They rested on a kid who looked about his age, but maybe a bit taller. He was sunnily tanned, with golden hair and glimmering blue eyes, clearer than the sky and almost as bright. The boy was panting, coated lightly with sweat. He was rolling up the sleeves of his button up as he stared down at Arthur. "Well?"

"Why do you want to know?" Arthur made a show of narrowing his eyes. All the greatest spies through history were skeptical about giving out information about themselves, and while Arthur was not technically an official spy (at least, not yet) he certainly wasn't going to be quick about giving out his information to boys he didn't know.

"Because this is my house, duh. And I want to know who you are" The boy laughed, the sun glinting off his glasses. "Hey, whatcha reading anyways?" He made a grab at Arthur's book, missing it and pouting as Arthur pulled the book towards his chest.

"How is this your house? It isn't even a house."

"It's my garden," the blue-eyed boy replied. Arthur looked around. The Garden of Spades was beautiful, he did admit. He especially loved the roses, they reminded him of his mother's. Where was his mother? She said she'd be back by now… "You're not a Club, are you? I hate Clubs!" The boy plastered what was likely meant to be a menacing gaze across his face.

"I'm not a Club and this isn't your garden," Arthur said matter-of-factly, "it's the palace garden."

"Yeah, and I'm the Prince of Spades! How'd you get in here anyways??" The so-called prince attempted (to no avail) to push down the little cowlick on his head.

"My parents brought me. They're important people. Nobles." Arthur preened. "You can't be the Prince of Spades. You're not like a prince." Arthur asserted, flipping through the pages of his book as he looked the boy up and down as to make a point.

"Can too."

"No, princes are supposed to be charming. You're too loud and obnoxious." Arthur went back to reading, thinking about how he would certainly make a much more charming prince than this kid.

"Nuh-uh! I'm perfectly charming," the blonde asserted, puffing out his chest. "And I am the prince. I can prove it." He sat down next to Arthur and pushed down his collar, revealing a lightly tinted sign of a spade on his neck- the king's mark. Arthur definitely wasn't impressed by that. It was just a little mark. Besides, just because the boy was a prince, that didn't mean he was any good at it. He scrunched his nose up and scooted away from the prince on the bench.

"You should take a shower. You're all sweaty," he said, green eyes scrutinizing the boy.

"Got no time for that. A hero never rests!" He grinned. "What's your name anyways? I'm Alfred."

"Arthur," he gave up reluctantly.

"Alfred!" A soft, panting voice approached behind them, the patter of footsteps sounding through the garden. The boys turned to meet a small boy running towards them. "Alfred, what are you doing? I spent, like, an hour trying to find you." Arthur decided not to interject about how there was absolutely no way Alfred had been taking to him for an hour. He met the light blue eyes of the boy. At least this one seemed soft spoken and not nearly as obnoxious and ridiculous as this Alfred kid. "Who is he?," the new boy asked.

"He's my new friend, Artie," Alfred boasted, casually resting his elbow on Arthur's shoulder only to have Arthur push it off immediately and scoot further away.

"Don't call me Artie. My name is Arthur, and we're not friends. I just met you." Arthur turned away coldly.

"Whatever. You're such a spoilsport. Y'know, I'm gonna be king one day, and you're gonna want to be my friend. Me and my queen are gonna have the most powerful kingdom in the world, and maybe you won't be allowed in," Alfred crossed his arms boastingly.

"That's kind of mean, Alfie," the other boy nearly whispered.

"I'm the prince, Mattie! I get to make the rules!" Alfred sprung up and joined the other boy, who Arthur could infer was Mattie. Arthur rolled his eyes. What a self-absorbed obnoxious prince.

"It's not 'me and my queen', it's 'my queen and I', idiot." Arthur said smugly.

"Uhm, no it isn't, you don't have a queen." Alfred pushed his collar back up, hiding the spade he had previously shown off.

"That's not what I meant. Besides, you don't either," Arthur bit back. He pulled his sweater sleeves over his hands as a bit of wind rustled through the trees around them.

"But I will," Alfred laughed and balanced himself atop a rock, reaching for a stick from the shaking branches above.

Arthur didn't look up as he retorted, "If you keep being loud and annoying nobody will want to marry you." Alfred finally succeeded at snapping a twig off the tree above him, triumphantly holding it above his head. Arthur glanced up to meet his eyes, which were now narrowing, his eyebrows drawn.

"Yes they will! Just because you're a dumb nerd who only likes books, that doesn't mean other people don't like me!" Alfred struck a heroic pose atop the rock. "I'm strong and totally brave!"

"Alfred, can we keep playing tag now? I'm kind of bored," Mattie softly tapped Alfred's soldier, interrupting the pair's bickering session. Alfred jumped off his rock.

"I'm bored of tag. Let's play astronauts!" He grabbed the smaller boy's hand insistently. "Do you wanna play, Ah….?" Mattie turned towards Arthur's bench and inquired with wide eyes.

"Arthur. And no thank you, I'm sure my parents are coming back to get me soon." Arthur flipped a page of his book.

"He's too lame anyways. C'mon, let's go!" Alfred insisted and pulled Matthew away through the trees, leaving Arthur alone in the clearing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said originally in the tags of this that it would be omegaverse... but i really thought about it and it didn't fit with my vision for the fic, so sorry if that disappoints you. In this chapter, Alfred is 10 and Arthur is 11. It takes place about a year after the last chapter. I know chapter 1 was short so hopefully this one is a bit better with length

Alfred was bored. No, not bored. He was beyond bored, unbelievably and totally and absolutely starved for fun. He flopped backwards onto his bed, sighing exaggeratedly as to make a point about how disgustingly lame his life felt (which was, admittedly, very lame right now). 

Almost as lame as his parents' stupid lame party. For some reason, they just had to have some kind of yearly get-together in which all these weird people with upturned noses and very dull interests came to his house to talk about politics. Really, Alfred hadn't minded it for the most part during previous years, besides occasionally running into someone who acted like they knew him. He knew he was important, but for some reason people he'd never seen in his life had to act like they knew his entire self!

Up until this year, Alfred had been allowed to run around and have fun with Mattie during the 4 day conference. They would spend their days traipsing through the gardens, full of falling cherry blossom petals and the softest April grass. The duo would morph into courageous soldiers, fraternal wolves and daring knights.

The greatest of days, Alfred thought wistfully. Of course, all good things must come to an end. And with Alfred's tenth birthday, his parents had sat him down about being more responsible, less carefree and more invested in his role as the future king. What a snooze! Alfred was destined to be king. He was heroic (he always saved Mattie in their games) and charming (his aunts and uncles and parents had always told him so). What else did a king need? 

Sadly, his parents seemed to (wrongly) believe that there was quite a lot of extra stuff needed to successfully run a kingdom, all this dumb stuff his parents had dumped on him with the ripe gaining of double digits. Alfred groaned again, for emphasis of his mental distress. He had spent the entire day greeting stuffy people with weird voices who smelled like dusty old perfume and wore lacey collars. Mattie didn't have to go, because he was just an Ace, but Alfred was forced to suffer through boring "How do you do, Lady..?" and "Wonderful to have you, Lord…" He was sick of it.

He had to get away. But how? He could fake sick. He'd done that a couple times to get out of etiquette lessons, which were almost as lame. But after the third consecutive day of getting sick and then somehow feeling better for dessert (he couldn't pass up his mom's bundt cake!), the queen eventually got suspicious of the legitimacy of these claims. Not to mention that fake sickness would surely mean confinement to his bed for the whole day, which wasn't really what seemed appealing. Maybe he could hide? Yes, that could work… but how? The prince glanced around his room, peaking under the huge canopy bed and in the closets… it would be kind of uncomfortable in both of those spots, plus his dad would definitely find him in here, and surely be mad. The king wasn't one to be gentle in punishments or soft with lectures. 

No, Alfred needed another way out. He would have to hide in a place nobody would think to look for him. No big deal, the palace was huge! He would just find a guest room or something, hide in there overnight until his parents eventually gave up looking for him, and then escape to the courtyard when nobody was looking! It was fool proof! Alfred knew he was king material. 

He glanced at the clock. 6 pm. Yao would come get him for dinner in the next 30 minutes, so he had to act fast. Necessities, necessities. Alfred grabbed a blanket and one of the old hockey sticks Mattie had left in his room out of the closet to tie a knapsack, stowaway style. He would be undercover for an awful long time, so he definitely needed entertainment. Comic books, and lots of them. His secret stash of smuggled leftover dessert chocolate, just in case he got hungry. And something to wear tomorrow. Alfred quickly rummaged through his closet, eventually settling on a grass stained white button up and khaki shorts. His mother would definitely scold him for ruining the linen sleeves and even more for wearing it, but doing it in secret made him feel even more rebellious, like one of the manly, rugged heroes of his dad's beloved westerns. Yes, he was manly and rugged and ready to execute his master plan. 

He slipped out of his shoes as to enter the ultimate stealth mode and slowly, quietly turned the brass knob of the door. There were plenty of guest bedrooms just one hallway down. The boy creeped from door to door, stealthily maneuvering through the shadows like a ninja before turning the corner for a lookout- the coast was clear. Alfred tiptoed from door to door, and turned each knob in succession, making sure to skip any with light shining from underneath the door- undoubtedly belonging to one of those stiff guests. A couple of the doors opened to a dark and empty room, but all of which were full of suitcases and gross, unnatural adulty smells. The large majority of the rooms were locked. Alfred was struggling to open one of the doors, unsure if it was locked or not, when he heard footsteps down the corridor along with a familiar, high pitched and stressed voice. No voice accompanied it. So Yao was talking to himself again. 

Crap. Yao. Alfred struggled with the knob on the door before giving up and moving to the next. He pulled on it wildly. "Open up, goddangit!" He knew he wasn't supposed to say stuff like "goddangit" but it was part of the rebel with a cause act. Alfred sweat and fell, fatigued from the pulling onto the door and suddenly fell forward. 

The door had swung open inwards, not outwards; of course it was a push door. Finally, some solace, he thought, pumping his fist and going for the lightswitch in order to truly celebrate his victory, until he was rudely awakened by an irritated voice.

"Get out of my room!!!!" 

Alfred whipped his head around, hair falling in front of his eyes. He pushed it back to meet huge green eyes, the same color as the soft April grass Alfred was starting to really wish he was playing on instead of being here. 

"You!" Alfred crinkled his nose. It was that kid, that boy from the garden last year. He recalled being in the middle of a game of tag, which was kind of a snooze with only two people, and being delighted to see a small figure with wildly untamed light blonde hair who could play and be friends with Mattie and him. Of course, he had been unpleasantly surprised by the boy's dumb curly sounding voice (why did he say all his words like that? It sounded so stupid and snooty!) and his rude nature and his infatuation with some kind of pictureless dusty old books and his huge drawn eyebrows, which Alfred wouldn't even have really minded if they didn't make him look so accusatory when he looked up at him. Alfred had supposed that Arthur was just another one of the strangers that had infiltrated his home that week, and with his return this year, his observations seemed well founded. 

Alfred stood blinking a second, unsure of what to say at first. 

"Seriously, get out!!! Didn't anyone ever tell you about knocking??" the boy screeched. Ah yes, the classic phrase he'd heard numerous from his parents late at night after he ran into their room unprompted. He had built up an immunity to that eventually. "You royals just think you can go around and interrupt someone's privacy-" 

Alfred gestured downwards as calmingly as he could. "Shhh, shhh, dude, you gotta be quiet. You can be as mad at me all you like later but I've kind of got a precaditment, so-"

"It's predicament, you idiot, and I don't see why your issues should be placed over the fact that you're in my room! Can you please get outmmmpph-" 

Alfred had to curb this issue temporarily. He skipped over to the bed quickly and placed a warm hand over the boy's mouth. The prince couldn't think of a better way to make him shut up.

"I really need you to be quiet, okay? What was it, Aaron…?" 

"Arfeh!" The boy yelled, muffled against Alfred's hand as he tried unsuccessfully to remove the hand. He shot Alfred an annoyed glare, those eyebrows as large and angry as the last time they'd met.

"Right, right, Artie…" That earned him another glare from Arthur, who had eventually given up. "I'll take away my hand but promise you'll be quiet, I'm hiding." 

Arthur nodded and Alfred ripped his hand away, wiping it on the bedsheets. 

"Could you not have used a towel?" Arthur scowled. How did he manage to look so mad?, Alfred wondered. Not like he was very large or intimidating, really quite the opposite. 

"I don't have a towel and I didn't want your mouth breath on my hand," Alfred shrugged, cutting off Arthur before he could start again. "Anyways, I'm hiding so could you please save your whining?" Another phrase his mother used fairly often, besides the hiding part. 

"I'm not whining. I'm just wondering why you think you have the right to go around breaking into others' rooms whenever you feel like it!"

"You did leave the door open," Alfred noted, very logically. "I just need to stay in here for a second, and then I'll leave when I can. I'm a stowaway," Alfred crossed his arms as if to communicate how independent and free willed he was. Arthur didn't look like he was buying it. He raised an eyebrow.

"How can you be a stowaway in your own house?" Arthur pointed out. 

"I just am, okay? I'm hiding from Yao. He's the Ja-"

"The Jack, I know," Arthur completed Alfred's sentence, which frankly made Alfred a little bit upset because he sounded smart when he explained stuff. "I'm not stupid," Arthur continued. "He greeted all the Nobles and showed us all to our rooms."

"Great, then you know he's a pain in a butt. Look, you can read some of my comic books if you let me hide in your room," Alfred said, already unwrapping his hockey stick knapsack and pulling out the pages of colorful superheroes in their sound effect heavy battles as he jumped onto the other side of the bed, sitting back on his knees.

"No thanks," Arthur declined. "What I'd really like for you to do is leave me be and go somewhere else to play with your stupid picture books, Alfred."

"They aren't stupid! They're very sophisticated stories about heroes. Not like you would get that. I bet you prefer playing the villain. You definitely have the face for it!" Alfred scoffed. How dare this boy insult comic books! He definitely had no idea how great they were. 

"I have the face for it??? You're the one with grass stains all over your shirt!" Arthur pointed out the clothing change Alfred had packed with a slender pointer finger. 

Alfred puffed his chest out. "It's because I'm rebellious and tough and don't care about wearing stupid frilly coats like you. A true hero has some scuffs on their clothes, didn't ya know."

"You're not a hero, you're just a snobbish prince who feels entitled to invade people's private spaces and then insult their tastes while you're there!" The boy spat back.

"I am a hero! Way more than you are!!!" Alfred curled his fists, seriously angry with Arthur. He didn't know anyone else so gutsy as to just insult his being like that. It was just wrong! What did he even do to Arthur??? "You don't even know me!" The prince bit. 

"I know that your ego seems to drive you into turbulent rage at people you're infringing on!!!" 

"What does that even MEAN???" Alfred cried, exasperated.

"It means that you're a lame, bragging and stuck up-" 

Alfred had enough. His pride had been battered too much, and Arthur's taunting had builded to explosion. The prince pounced on Arthur angrily with a battle cry. "I don't know why you just keep attacking everything I do!!!!" Alfred gritted as he reached to pin Arthur.

Arthur was pushing back on Alfred incessantly. "Me? Attacking?? You're the one that just jumped on me like some kind of rabid dog!!" Arthur kicked wildly. 

"You're such a sissy, I didn't even hurt you!!" Arthur managed to kick Alfred in the side as he flailed. "OUCH!" The blond leaned back to clutch his side from the blow, giving Arthur the chance to push him to the left. "Hey-!" 

The two tumbled in their scrabble off the bed and landed with a thud on the carpet, Alfred immediately pushing them over again to be atop Arthur, biting back the residing pain in the hip. 

"I'm not-" Arthur pushed against Alfred's chest and dug his heels into the ground "-a SISSY!" 

"Are too!!!" 

"Am not!!! I'm just more sophisticated than you-" 

"Stop using that word!!!!" Alfred got angrier, grabbing Arthur's cold palms off his person. "You're not sophisticated, you just think you're better than me!!!" 

Arthur continued to kick. "Well maybe-" he panted, "I am!!! Because you keep on insisting that you have some inherent goodness, but really-" Arthur heaved and Alfred dodged a kick to the thigh. "-when someone contests you, you just resort to physically overpowering them!!!" 

"SHUT UP!!!! YOU THINK YOU'RE SO FANCY, BUT REALLY YOU'RE JUST MEAN!!!!!" Alfred pushed Arthur back again as to emphasize his point, green eyes staring back at him with frenzy.

"AM NOT! GET OVER IT, NOT EVERYONE LIKES YOU!" Arthur flailed wildly. 

"STOP SPEAKING AS IF YOU KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT ME!!"

"YOU STOP ACTING LIKE YOU'RE NOT A COMPLETE OPEN BOOK!!" 

"THERE YOU GO AGAIN!! ACTING LIKE YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME, YOU- YOU-"

The door creeped open. The boys halted. Alfred slowly moved his head to face the open door, his hands still against Arthur's wrists, though Arthur had stopped struggling at this point, and was now propping himself up on his elbows and peering around Alfred's head to meet a very angry pair of brown eyes. 

Alfred sat up on his heels, knees still on either side of Arthur. "Yao…! I can explain, we were just playing-"

"You really think we can't hear you?? The entire banquet hall underneath you could hear the thumping and shouting. It sounded like some type of air raid up here, boys! You should know better than this, Alfred. Why are you even in here??" The man stood with his arms crossed, sternly looking over the two. Alfred opened his mouth to answer. "You know, I don't want to hear it. Tell it to your father instead," he said, walking towards the young prince and grabbing him by his collar as to pull him off of Arthur, who promptly stood up, dusting off his clothing. They shot eachother vengeful glares as they were marched out of the room.

  
"I'm beyond disappointed in you, Alfred. Not only were you trying to escape your duties as the future of this kingdom, but you pounced on this other boy!" The king stared Alfred down with icy eyes, and Alfred diverted his own towards the floor. 

"We're deeply, deeply sorry for this. We promise Alfred will be punished accordingly for his actions, and that he won't be doing this again," Alfred's mom said, apologizing profusely to Lord and Lady Snootheads- Arthur's parents, who looked like the picture of stuffy old adults. Of course his mother would side with them instead of him. What a traitor! Maybe he shouldn't have pounced on Arthur, but Arthur had been stoking the flame! He had it coming. "I hope this doesn't affect your perception of our house, which our son has disgraced," his mother continued. "Alfred is very sorry for his actions." She turned towards her son. "Aren't you, Alfred?" 

Alfred looked up, mumbling a half-assed apology in the Kirklands' direction and scowled at Arthur, whose arms were crossed as he smirked gleefully, like he had won this battle. 

"Of course, we would never look upon your house with disdain, your majesty," Lord Kirkland assured the monarchs. "We're sure there's nothing troubling between our sons. We're also deeply discouraged that Arthur would partake in such violent activity. He's never been known to do such a thing, truly. We'll also be taking corrective measures against this behavior," the man said, shifting his eyes towards Arthur, whose emerald eyes had suddenly darkened, his eyebrows drawing his face into a scowl. 

Alfred smiled a little bit to Arthur across the table. Sure, it would suck for him after this little meeting, but at least that dumb look of self assurance had been wiped off the guy's face. Arthur looked unamused, strands of unruly light blonde hair falling over one of his irises.

"Yes, we will be doing the same." 

  
"I can't believe you would do this, Alfred. I'm sure a lot of people heard you! You've seriously dishonored our family today by doing this. And during the most important conference of the year…" His dad grumbled, pulling his son by the wrist into his room. 

"You should've heard what he said about me, dad! I wasn't just gonna sit back and take it!" Alfred protested, begrudgingly dragged along. 

"I don't care what that boy said, it gives you absolutely no right to use violence to solve your issues. The Kirklands are an important family, a huge economic power. I'm sure you and their son-"

"Arthur." 

"You and Arthur will have to do some negotiating in the future. I can only hope this is something he'll forget about as adults," he sternly spoke, lifting Alfred onto the bed in front of him. 

"I won't negotiate with him. He's too mean. I'll cut him off from Spades," Alfred kicked the side of the bed with resentment. What a dumb dork, getting him in trouble like this. It never would have happened if he had just helped Alfred instead of treating him like a bug.

His father sighed. "If only it were that easy, son." He took Alfred's hand, wiser eyes glancing into Alfred's bright blue. "Look, son. I get it. You're young and you have a lot of pride. But if someone tries to bruise it, you've gotta be the bigger person. It'll save you from the chips on your shoulder, kid." Alfred looked down. His father was maybe right. He wouldn't admit it, of course, and he would still always be mad at Arthur, but maybe he shouldn't have pounced on the kid. 

"I'm not gonna punish you, not really. I just want you to correct it in the future. Honor and power always fight with the mind. And you're going to be a strong king one day, right?"

"Yeah…" Alfred mumbled, looking up and pausing for a bit before starting again. "Yes. Yes I will. The strongest," he smiled a little bit, his father's hand on his shoulder. 

"That's my boy. Now, run along and see if you can't catch the chefs before they put all the food from the dinner tonight away. You missed it. And uh, don't tell your mother about this. I told her I wouldn't let you off the hook."

Alfred hopped off the bed, offering a grin before bounding out the door and down the stairs, renewed confidence and spirit outweighing every stupid noble in the palace.


End file.
